The Whiskered Spy by Nic Saint

Author:Nic Saint [Saint, Nic]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Puss in Print Publications
Published: 2015-10-24T04:00:00+00:00

21

An Unexpected Partnership

Brutus suddenly thrust out a paw. I stared at it blankly.

“Tap it,” he urged. I tapped it. Reluctantly, for I’ve never been fond of physical contact with the brute.

“It’s imperative that we join forces, my friend,” he now said. “United we stand. Divided we fall. And all that jazz.”

When cats of Brutus’s ilk start using ten-dollar words like imperative, something’s definitely off. “Right,” I mumbled, and started to inch my way towards the hedge dividing our gardens once again.

He cut off my retreat by slinging an arm around my neck and dragging me along towards a small but hideous fountain neighbor Moppett has erected in the center of his garden. I’d seen Brutus hovering near the thing before. He’s one of those cats that like water, and he enjoys the spray of the fountain on his coat. Now, I also like water, but not in the company of my least favorite cat in the world.

He invited me to take a seat on top of the stone bench Moppett has placed next to the fountain by giving me a hard shove in the rear.

“Hop it,” he said curtly, when I displayed a certain hesitation.

I hopped it, and now found myself staring out at two fat little limestone angels spewing water into a limestone bowl and onto the two of us.

“We need to devise a strategy,” said Brutus, making himself comfortable and lifting his face to enjoy the droplets falling on his fur and whiskers. “Ah, that’s the life,” he murmured, then shook himself with relish. “I can’t tell you how horrible those dreams have been. There’s that woman, completely drenched, and she keeps staring at me, pointing an accusing finger, and saying ‘You should have saved me, little one. You should have saved me when you had the chance.’ Pretty scary stuff.”

His story had shaken me profoundly. This was the exact same thing that had happened to me, right down to the phrasing. Was Lucy Knicx still at it? And why would she appear to Brutus? He hadn’t been there when she was murdered. Why would she blame him of all cats of what had happened?

“When was the last time you… saw her?” I said.

“Oh, just now,” he said. “I was having a nap when I suddenly woke up and saw you trespassing—I mean, passing through. And good thing you did, because I was having a doozy.” He shivered. “The ghost lady was at it again, as usual, but this time there was some guy in the picture as well. Standing behind her with a big, shiny knife in his hand. And it looked like he meant business.”

I sat up a little straighter. “A guy? What did he look like?”

Brutus eyed me strangely. “What does it matter what he looked like? Some human, you know. They all look alike to me.”

“Did he have…” I hesitated, wondering how I was going to explain this.

“Did he have what?” said Brutus, some of his old peeve returning.

“Did he have a big, fat pimple right on the tip of his nose?” I said, taking the plunge.

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